Tomorrow Can Wait
by GitaMerah
Summary: Formerly known as "Murphy's Law". Thanks to a potions accident, Hermione is thrown into the Founders era, where she meets none other than Godric Gryffindor himself. HermioneGodric.
1. Chapter 1

Believe it or not, this was originally _meant_ to be a oneshot. But, like most plot bunnies, once it grabs hold of you, it refuses to let go until you've squeezed every drop of creative ideas out of it. So, alas, my little "oneshot" grew and grew until it obviously cannot be contained by one measly chapter.

Warning: _Huge_ HBP spoiler.

Disclaimer: I don't own HP. I even had to borrow HBP from the library. Sad, isn't it?

**Chapter 1**

A muggle by the name of Murphy once said, "Everything that can go wrong _will_ go wrong."

Unfortunately, those words spelled doom for the 7th year Potions class.

They were working on the _Memoriae_ potion, which was often used to retrieve memories lost due to severe trauma or the obliviate spell. It was a complicated potion, which is why Hermione was pouring all her focus and attention into the boiling cauldron in front of her.

The messy-haired boy next to her, however, was not paying attention. She could tell by the distant look in his eyes that Harry was thinking about Dumbledore again. Being in the potions classroom wasn't exactly helping, either. Snape had been their potions teacher for five years. The potions classroom was practically his trademark. It reminded them all too much of the man who murdered their beloved Headmaster.

At this stage of the potion, they were supposed to add lionfish spine. Without thinking, Harry reached for the porcupine quills instead, which wasn't supposed to be added until _after_ the lionfish spine.

Harry's potion began to rise to the rim of the cauldron. Harry snapped out of his trance and stared at the rising potion in alarm. Almost instinctively, he backed away.

Hermione had been so focused on her own potion that she didn't even notice Harry's until she heard a hissing sound coming from Harry's cauldron. Hermione turned. Her eyes widened when she saw the foam forming on Harry's potion.

Slughorn was instantly alert. He took out his wand and raced to Harry's table. Before he could reach the table, however, Harry's potion exploded and showered its contents on the closest person: Hermione.

She screamed as the scalding hot liquid hit her. Suddenly, the room started spinning until everything becomes a blur around her. All around her, people were moving backwards at tremendous speed before they disappeared and were replaced by a completely different set of people and so on. It continued this way for a very long time. Hermione's eyes widened when she realized what was happening.

She was going back in time.

oOo

Eventually, the world around her stopped spinning. She would have tried to look around her, but Harry's scalding hot potion had burned her skin. She doubled over in pain. It felt as though someone had fired a blowtorch on her skin. She tried not to scream, but a pained whimper escaped her nonetheless.

She dimly heard heavy footsteps rushing over to her. She saw a blur of red hair and thought it was Ron. Then he stopped and waved his wand over her.

The potion lifted off her body and clothes, but that did nothing to ease her pain.

"Aguamenti," he said in a voice that was somewhat deeper than Ron's. Hermione looked up and realized that he wasn't Ron, after all, though she had no idea who he was. As soon as he uttered the spell, her body was drenched in water.

Hermione sighed. Well... that helped... a little.

"Thank you," she muttered weakly. Her skin still stung, but the water helped dull the pain a bit.

"Come, I'll take you to the hospital wing," he said. The pain had sapped her energy. She was clearly too weak to walk, so he levitated her instead.

oOo

The mediwitch at the hospital wing had given her a balm to heal her burnt skin, but she insisted that Hermione stay for at least one more day to make sure that the potion that spilled on her didn't have any other side effects.

She still did not know the name of the wizard who had helped her earlier. Was he a teacher? She didn't recognize him at all. He seemed to be about the same age as Remus and Sirius. Unlike those two marauders, however, this unknown wizard had no worry lines on his face, which gave him a younger, fresher appearance than Remus and Sirius.

She remembered what happened after Harry's potion had splashed all over her. She had seen time going backwards. How far back had she gone?

She looked at the wizard who was now talking to the mediwitch in low voices. She couldn't hear what they were talking about, so she could only guess that they must have been talking about her, since the mediwitch kept glancing towards Hermione as they spoke.

The unknown wizard had wavy red hair that fell to his shoulders. Was he related to Ron in some way? Perhaps he was an ancestor of the Weasleys. He certainly had the hair. Something about his demeanor reminded her of Charlie. Bold, confident, and probably adventurous too, judging by the ruby encrusted sword that hung on his belt.

_Wait a minute_. Hermione frowned. _I know that sword_._ That's Godric Gryffindor's sword!_ Hermione's eyes widened. She looked at him in surprise. Godric Gryffindor? No, that's impossible! No one has been able to travel _that_ far back in time. He couldn't possibly be Godric Gryffindor... could he?

Once their conversation was over, the wizard turned to Hermione and went over to her bedside while the mediwitch went back to her office.

"How is the pain?" He asked with a concerned look in his eyes.

"It's gone now," Hermione replied. She couldn't help but feel nervous around him. Could he really be Godric Gryffindor?

"Good, good. I am glad to hear it," he smiled. "Now, I don't believe we've been introduced. I am Godric Gryffindor."

Hermione froze. "I'm sorry, did you say... Godric Gryffindor?" Hermione _hoped_ she had misheard him.

Much to Hermione's dismay, he nodded. It was then that he spotted the Gryffindor crest on her uniform and frowned. "You wear our school uniform and bear the crest of my house. Strange... I know every student in my house. Yet I am certain that I have never seen you before, Miss...?"

"Hermione. Hermione Granger," Hermione replied. She clutched her bedsheets nervously under his scrutiny and explained, "I _am_ a student in your house, Sir... but... not for another thousand years. That is, if my suspicions are correct... Sir."

Godric frowned. He looked at her suspiciously and said, "And what suspicions would that be?"

"Sir, before I answer, could you please tell me what year it is? And what date?" Hermione asked.

"Tis the 21st of May, 992 in the year of our Lord," he replied.

Hermione's face fell. "992...? Then it's true..." Hermione buried her face in her hands. A thousand years! How was she going to get back?

Godric looked at her suspiciously. He was anxious to find out more, but the lady was clearly distraught. He decided to wait.

Finally, Hermione looked up. "I'm sorry, Sir. It's just... well... I guess I'd better start from the beginning." She began to tell him about her disastrous potions class and how she ended up here.

"1997, you say?" Godric frowned. He began to pace in front of her bed. "It is widely believed that time travel is impossible. It has never been attempted before."

"Muggles believe flying is impossible," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "We _are_ witches and wizards, after all."

Godric stopped. He looked at Hermione... then laughed and shook his head. "You certainly have a point there, Miss Granger." He then straightened himself up. "As tempting as it is to use veritaserum on you, I shall take your word for it, Miss Granger. I must admit, it would explain how you managed to suddenly appear in a castle that had a strong anti-apparation charm on it."

Hermione sighed in relief.

"Well, then, Miss Granger, you are welcome to stay here for as long as you wish," Godric said.

"Thank you, Sir. Although... to be perfectly honest, I think I might have to stay here for a long time," Hermione said. Seeing him frown, she quickly explained, "You see... I don't know how to get back."

"Oh." Godric's eyes widened in understanding. "Well, in that case, we shall endeavor to help you find your way back to your time."

"Thank you, Sir," Hermione smiled gratefully.

"In the mean time, do get some rest," Godric said.

oOo

Hermione was allowed out of the hospital wing after that. Godric had introduced her to the other Founders and told them her story. Naturally, Salazar Slytherin was suspicious of her, but he was outvoted by Rowena and Helga, who insisted that they let Hermione stay at Hogwarts for as long as she required.

Thankfully, the school year had just ended. Hermione would have three student-free months here at Hogwarts. So the Founders did not need to come up with a cover story for Hermione... yet. She hoped they would not need to. She had no plans on staying here for any longer than three months.

Since there were no students here at the moment, Godric let her stay in Gryffindor tower for the summer.

For the first couple of weeks, Hermione kept to herself. She was deathly afraid of changing the future. She would spend her days researching in the library for ways to go home. She'd spent days mulling over what went wrong with Harry's potion and if she can reverse the effect. But the potions books found in the library at this century was not as complete nor as advanced as the ones found in her time. It frustrated her to no end.

Tonight, like many other nights, Hermione sat in the Gryffindor common room with a potions book laid open in front of her. She sighed as the passage she read led her to yet another dead end.

She closed her book and stared into the fireplace. It wasn't a cold night, but she lit it anyway. For some reason, the fire made the common room feel less... empty. She was so accustomed to a common room filled with students. She looked to her right. Right below the arched window was a table and two chairs. She could almost see Ron and Harry playing wizard's chess on that table, just as they had done countless times before. Then, her gaze swept over to the portrait hole. Almost instantly, she saw a vision of Neville stumbling over the portrait hole.

Hermione sighed. She missed her friends. She missed her family. But most of all... she missed human contact.

Suddenly, the portrait hole swung open.

Hermione's eyes widened. Who could it be? There were no other students except her in the castle. And no one from the staff had ever visited her in the common room. Not even Godric Gryffindor himself.

She relaxed when she saw Godric step through the portrait hole.

Godric let the portrait swing close behind him as he stood there. His eyes drifted over to the potions book that lie on Hermione's lap. He looked at Hermione, then sighed and shook his head.

"You were missed at dinner," he said.

"Dinner...?" Hermione looked at him blankly. She glanced towards the window. Her eyes widened when she realized that it was already late in the evening. "Oh! I didn't realize it was this late, already!"

"I thought as much." Godric smiled while glancing at the potions book in her lap. Then, he walked over to where she was sitting and took one of the nearby chairs. He leaned forward on his knees, clasped his hands, and looked at her thoughtfully.

"Miss Granger... I didn't come here to remind you of dinner," Godric said.

Hermione frowned. She looked at Godric expectantly.

Godric sighed. He looked at her. "You've been here two weeks, Miss Granger. Yet we've hardly ever seen you, much less talk to you. I was beginning to think that perhaps you were avoiding us on purpose."

Guilt washed over her. Hermione looked away.

Godric sighed again and leaned back on his chair. "You cannot hide forever. 'Tis not healthy."

"I know that," Hermione said without looking. "It's just that..."

"You are afraid," Godric said. For it was obvious to most people. Why would anyone openly avoid people unless they're afraid of something?

Hermione swallowed and nodded. She felt embarrassed at having to admit it, especially to the Founder of her house, who valued courage in all his students.

"What are you afraid of, Miss Granger?" Godric frowned.

Hermione was silent for awhile. She didn't feel comfortable sharing her thoughts with a man she barely even knew, even if he was Godric Gryffindor. But he did help her. At the very least, he deserved _some_ kind of explanation as to why she was avoiding him.

Hermione sighed, then finally answered, "I'm just afraid that... if I do something... even if it's just a small thing, I might change the future."

Godric's eyes softened. Finally, he understood. He leaned forward and looked at her intently. "Miss Granger, do you honestly think that the future is in your hands... and yours alone?"

Hermione blinked. "No, of course not! But that doesn't mean my actions can't change the future!"

"Perhaps," Godric nodded in agreement. "But perhaps it was meant to be changed."

Stunned, Hermione looked at him. She never thought of it that way. She had thought that this whole thing was nothing but an accident. Hermione sighed.

"Then again," Godric added, "Perhaps you were meant to be a part of the past in the first place."

Hermione blinked. She frowned at him. "You mean, I'm part of history?"

"You are already a part of history, Miss Granger, whether you like it or not," Godric said. He took a deep breath, then continued, "All I wanted to say is, you cannot let your fear prevent you from living. You are human. You need more than just books and solitude. You cannot go on like this forever. Stop trying to control the future. You are not God. Tis not your job, Miss Granger."

That silenced her... but not before a stray thought entered her mind. She looked at Godric and said, "But... what if... I make a mistake and change the future for the worst? What if my friends were never born because of something I did here?"

"Do you honestly think that God has so little control over the future that He couldn't fix a simple little mistake made by one measly human being?" Godric raised his eyebrow.

That silenced her.

Godric rose to his feet and looked at her with kind eyes. "Tomorrow, I would like to see you out and about, Miss Granger. Or, better yet," Godric's eyes lit up as an idea struck him, "How about... I take you to a muggle town tomorrow? I doubt you'd seen what muggle towns were like in the tenth century, have you?"

That did it. Hermione smiled and gave in. She had always been fascinated with history. And medieval England was no exception.

"Well, if you insist," Hermione said with a grin.

"Oh, I insist," Godric smiled. "Tomorrow. We shall leave after lunch."

Hermione couldn't wait.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Thank you all for the reviews. Here's the next chapter!

Disclaimer: Don't own it, don't even have the books (yeah, I'm a cheapskate, so what?)

**Chapter 2**

Medieval England was nothing like the movies portrayed. For one thing, the streets here were dirtier. There were no "men in tights" wielding swords and saving maidens in distress. What she saw instead were families struggling to survive. Children played barefoot in the dirt covered streets using sticks, rocks, or whatever they could find. The women she saw here were thin, as though they hadn't eaten well in a very long time. They'd pass by men loading and unloading their merchandize from wagons, women standing in the doorway while shouting at their husbands or children, and so on.

No one paid any attention to her and Godric as they walked around town. Godric had transfigured her modern, 21st century clothes into a simple, brown, peasant's dress. Godric himself was clothed in similarly drab looking tunic. He had shrunk his sword and put it in his pocket so as not to attract any attention. To the townsfolk, they probably looked like a couple of normal peasants passing through their town.

It wasn't a big city, certainly not when compared to 21st century London. But according to Godric, this small town was considered quite big. When they arrived in the market place, Hermione's eyes widened in delight. There were stalls selling various items like jewelry, drums, flutes, leather pouches, and so on. A few stalls were selling food items like fruits, eggs, poultry, vegetables, and in rare occasions, red meat. The crowd here were much more varied than the ones she and Godric had seen so far. A few among the men and women shopping here wore clothes that are more fine and more colorful than the drab, brown tunics and dresses that the peasants were wearing.

She noticed a small crowd gathering in the square up ahead. She and Godric stopped closer to look. It was a colorfully dressed troubadour singing while he strummed his lute. His hat lay on the ground in front of him. She noticed a few coins were in the hat already. The crowd laughed and clapped along with the troubadour's humorous lyrics. Hermione and Godric stood to listen, then moved on as soon as it was over.

"This is amazing," Hermione said with a delighted twinkle in her eyes. "I've read so many books about the medieval times, but I never thought I'd actually get to see it. Oh! This is nothing like they described in the books. I'm glad you brought me here, thank you!" 

"You are quite welcome," Godric replied, "And I'm glad to see you smile at last."

Hermione smiled at his comment.

"You have a charming smile, Miss Granger," Godric said with a smile. "You ought to do that more often."

Hermione blushed at his compliment. No one had ever complimented her smile before. Everyone else usually focused on how clever or how studious she was.

They walked further past the market place. As they did, the houses around them gradually changed from small, peasants' huts to larger and larger houses. Apparently, most of the richer folks in this town prefer to stay away from the hustle and bustle of the marketplace.

"Sir, I was wondering," Hermione asked as they walked past a particularly large house. "Why is everyone at the castle? I mean, it's summer right now, isn't it? Don't teachers go home for the summer?"

"Most do," Godric answered. "Salazar, Rowena, Helga and I, however, chose to stay behind."

"Why? Don't you have a house to go to? A family?" Hermione asked. Then, belatedly, she realized that her question might be considered too personal. "Oh. I'm so sorry! Maybe I shouldn't have asked–"

"No, no, that's quite alright, Miss Granger," Godric chuckled. "I do have a home. If by family you mean parents and siblings, then yes, I have them as well. But they have their own lives. They do not need me pestering every second of their lives. I would drive them insane. Either that, or _they'll_ drive me insane."

Hermione laughed. "It's no worse than being in a castle full of children."

"True," Godric smiled in amusement, "At least in Hogwarts I won't suffer alone. Between Salazar and I, we've got our hands full with the pranks that our students pulled on each other― and on us, for that matter. Sometimes, cunning and bravery does have its drawbacks, particularly when you're dealing with a castle full of them."

Hermione couldn't help but smile.

"But," Godric continued, "Back to your question, we stay in Hogwarts because that's the only time we'll have to do whatever changes we need to do on the castle. Hogwarts is only a few years old. There is still much, much to do: modifications, protection spells, you get the idea. And we can't very well do that with students around. Besides, it's not like anyone's waiting for me back home."

Hermione frowned. "What about your wife and children?"

"Wife? Good heavens, no!" Godric laughed. "I am still quite fond of my bachelorhood, Miss Granger. Besides, whoever has the misfortune of becoming my wife would have to take second place to Hogwarts."

Hermione shook her head at his comment. She hoped he was only joking about Hogwarts having priority over his wife. But a part of her― a very small part, mind you ―couldn't help but feel relieved that he doesn't have a wife. Hermione refused to acknowledge the reason why she felt that way.

oOo

As promised, Hermione began to spend more and more time outside Gryffindor common room. Her fear of changing history grew less and less with each passing day. She started opening up more to Helga, Rowena, and especially towards Godric. The only one she still avoided was Salazar Slytherin. Besides, judging from the dour expression he usually wore around her, he wasn't exactly eager to chat with her, either. And that suited her just fine. She wasn't exactly eager to chat with him, either.

She still hadn't given up on her research. She missed Harry and Ron. She missed her parents. She would not give up on finding a way to get home. This time, however, she was not alone in her plight.

At times, whenever she sat down to read, whether in the library or elsewhere, Godric would join her. Together, they would discuss― and debunk ―whatever theories they found or came up with. It became almost like a nightly routine for the two of them.

It had been so gradual at first. She hadn't even realized it when their conversations had turned from potions to Crookshanks. Now, instead of potions, they talk about ghosts, kneazles, and ice cream. She noticed how Godric's eyes would brighten in excitement whenever she told him about muggle 21st century technology.

Today, they walking around in the courtyard. It was a warm afternoon. Sunlight bathed the paved courtyard and the fountain in the middle. Hermione and Godric stayed in the cool shadows as they walked.

"You remind me Mr. Weasley, sometimes, do you know that?" Hermione's eyes twinkled in amusement when she saw how excited Godric looked after she told him about television.

"Mr. Weasley?" Godric raised his eyebrow.

"He's the father of my best friend Ron. He has a fascination for all things muggle. Harry and I used to stay at their house during summer. Mr. Weasley would often ask us questions about various muggle inventions," Hermione explained.

"Ah." Godric nodded. Then, he turned to her. "You mentioned Harry and Ron quite a bit. Especially Harry."

Hermione smiled. She missed Harry and Ron. "I've known them both since my first year at Hogwarts. We've been best friends ever since."

"_Just_ friends?" Godric asked.

Hermione raised her eyebrows at him, then shook her head. "We're best friends, nothing more, although _some_ people have accused us of being more than that. But really, those two are more like my brothers than anything else."

Was it just her imagination, or did she detect a hint of relief washing over Godric's face?

No, it must have been her imagination, Hermione thought. She really should stop reading more in people than what was really there. Besides, why on earth would Godric be interested in her? He is, after all, _Godric Gryffindor_.

"You miss them, don't you?" Godric asked.

Hermione smiled wistfully. "Yes. We've had so many adventures together. They're practically family to me." She sighed. "I didn't have many friends growing up. Those two boys were the closest friends I've had. We trusted each other and watched out for each other. I miss that."

An owl swooped past them. They stopped to look as it headed towards the owlery. Then, Godric turned towards Hermione.

"I know I can never replace your friends, but I do hope that someday you'll see me as a friend also, as you are to me," Godric said as he looked into her eyes.

Hermione felt tears in her eyes. For the first time since she arrived in this era, she felt less alone. She looked at him and smiled. "You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

Godric's eyes softened. He reached out and wiped the tear from her eyes and smiled. "I wish..." he trailed off. His hand trembled. A thousand emotions shone in his eyes.

Hermione couldn't breathe. She wanted to close her eyes and lean into his touch, but her gaze could not stray from his eyes. Her heart began to beat faster as he leaned forward.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, as if he suddenly remembered himself. He sprung apart from her and looked away.

"Forgive me," Godric said as he turned and walked away.

Stunned, Hermione could only watch as he walked away.

_What just happened...?_

To be continued...

A/N: Kyaa! Don't kill me! (ducks from flying tomatoes)

It just seemed like an appropriate break for this chapter. I'll try to update soon, but I'm not making any promises.

I realized I skipped a large part of Godric and Hermione's friendship. To tell you the truth, I never intended for this to be a long fic. It was meant to be a oneshot. But somehow, I just couldn't bring myself to summarize their entire relationship in just a few paragraphs. I don't know how long this fic is going to be, but I don't think it's going to go all the way to 40 chapters!

Don't forget to review!


	3. Chapter 3

_Note: Hello, everyone! Sorry it took awhile to update. I've had to redo this chapter because I didn't like the original version. Anyways, thank you for the reviews! _

**Chapter 3**

Not long after Godric left, Hermione sat glumly at a nearby stone bench in the courtyard. She could still feel the lingering warmth from Godric's touch. _What would have happened if Godric hadn't stopped?_

Was it nothing more than a friendly gesture? Or was she reading more into it than what's really there?

Hermione got up and began to pace in front of the stone bench. The more she thought about it, the more she couldn't deny that it was more than just a friendly gesture.

She groaned. _This is bad. This is really bad. I'm getting far too close to Godric._ Hermione wrung her hands and tried to think. She must distance herself from Godric. It's far too risky. Not to mention improper.

She would have to do her research in the common room from now on.

More importantly, she's got to find a way back. Soon. Before anything else happens between her and Godric.

oOo

Godric barely even glanced at the portraits as he stormed down the deserted corridor. He went into his office, slammed the door shut, and slammed his fist against the wall.

He was furious with himself. How had he lost control? He began to pace in front of his desk. She was of his house! A Gryffindor! He was supposed to _protect_ her, not take advantage of her! She'd probably be absolutely mortified by now.

He walked over to his desk and slumped down in the chair. He wouldn't blame her if she never spoke to him again.

Godric sighed.

He would have distance himself from her, lest he be tempted again. He could not let himself weaken again. Time... time was what he needed. Perhaps in time, he would loose this momentary attraction he had of her.

Yes, that's what it was.

Just a momentary attraction.

Nothing more.

oOo

Dinner was an awkward moment. Since there aren't many people in the castle at the moment, only five seats were provided. By now, everyone already had their usual spots. Usually, Hermione would sit next to Godric. So, that's exactly where she sat. Besides, everywhere else was taken.

None of this would have raised any eyebrows amongst the other three founders. Hermione was in Godric's house, after all. It was only normal that she'd be closer to him than to the others.

It was the silence between the two that drew curious glances towards the pair. By the time the roast pheasant was half-eaten, it was starting to get clear that the two were not speaking to each other. In fact, they seemed to avoid looking at each other. Hermione would make pointed efforts to look to the other side, who, unfortunately, happened to be Salazar, who simply ignored her. Godric kept glancing in Helga's direction, which made Helga wonder if she had something in her face.

Rowena, however, was busy staring at the two in suspicion. Several times, she opened her mouth to ask, and then changed her mind. As dinner continued, however, Rowena's curiosity began to gnaw at her. Something wasn't right with those two.

Finally, she gave in and asked, "Are you two fighting?"

"What?" Hermione and Godric looked up in surprise, then chorused, "No, no! Of course not!"

Startled at each other's replies, Godric and Hermione looked at each other. As soon as their eyes met, Hermione began to blush. She hastily looked away.

That made Rowena even more suspicious. Her gaze narrowed at the two. Finally, she decided that, whatever it was, probably shouldn't be discussed at the dinner table.

Hermione's shoulders sagged in relief. She wasn't sure if she wanted to explain what happened, anyway. Besides, if Godric's behavior tonight was anything to go by, she doubted he'd wanted to, either.

She couldn't be more relieved when dinner was over.

If anyone ever kept a record of the fastest escape from dinner, Godric and Hermione would have won the award. As soon as the dishes were cleared, the two fled in different directions.

oOo

They spent the next few days avoiding each other. Hermione would go into the library, get what she needed, then took it up to her common room to read. As for Godric, well... who knows where he's gone off to. All Hermione knew was that she only saw him during meal times. After three days, however, Godric started missing meals.

It was only a few days later that she found out Godric had gone to visit his brother.

She knew should be relieved, but she couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment.

_It's better this way_, Hermione tried to convince herself again. _Now stop thinking about him!_ Hermione forced her mind to focus on the book she was reading. But her mind still wandered towards Godric from time to time.

Five minutes passed. Hermione blinked. She had been reading the same paragraph over and over again. Even then, she still didn't fully comprehend what she was reading. She groaned in frustration and slammed her book shut. _I really need to stop thinking about Godric_._ This isn't really helping._

Absent-mindedly, she looked out the window. It was a warm day outside and the sun was shining brightly over the glittering lake. Hermione sighed. Perhaps a short walk would help clear her mind.

oOo

Godric sat on a stone bench behind his brother's manor overlooking a grassy hill. About twenty meters from where he sat, his two young nephews were flying around with the brooms their father had made for them. His older brother, Garrick, sat next to him, watching the boys. Like Godric, Garrick bore the same wavy red hair that was characteristic of their family. Unlike Godric, who preferred to be clean-shaven, Garrick had a short beard that grew to two inches from his chin.

"They have grown taller since I last saw them," Godric said as he watched the two boys play.

"Yes," Garrick replied, "In a few years, Edric will be old enough for that school of yours, Godric."

Godric looked at the said boy with interest. Edric, the older of two brothers, was eight years old while his younger brother, Godwin, had just celebrated his sixth birthday last month. Edric was egging his brother on to try a particular maneuver that involved hanging upside down from one's broom. Little Godwin, never one to be outdone by anyone, bravely took on the challenge. Godric smiled. There was no doubt which house Godwin will end up in.

"How is Hogwarts?" Garrick asked.

"More quiet, now that the students had finally gone home for the summer," Godric said. "We have a visitor, however. A young lady. I found her in the hallway. She was injured, thanks to a potions accident. She has been living with us ever since."

Garrick raised his eyebrow. "Does she not have a home?"

"Not in this time," Godric said mysteriously. "She arrived under... peculiar circumstances."

That caught Garrick's attention. "Peculiar? In what way?"

"I'm not at liberty to say. Needless to say, none of us, including herself, expect her to be here for long. She has been trying to find a way back to her home, but had not gotten any results so far."

"Is she not a witch? Could she not simply apparate back to her home?" Garrick asked.

"Oh, she _is_ a witch, a rather brilliant one, I might say. Driven, too. But no, the situation is much more complicated than that. If it was simply a matter of apparating, I've no doubt she would have gone home long ago," Godric said.

Garrick simply stared at his brother. "Your description sounds so vague, brother. I have no idea what sort of situation could have prevented a brilliant young witch from apparating back home."

"I wish I could say more, Garrick, but her tale is not for me to tell," Godric said.

Garrick nodded and left it at that. "I assume you are helping her, then?"

Godric took a deep breath and sighed. "Well I _was_."

Garrick raised his eyebrow. "_Was?_"

When Godric hesitated to answer, Garrick spoke again, "What happened?"

Godric looked away, as if trying to decide whether or not to tell his brother. Finally, he gave in, but decided on being as vague as possible. "Let's just say I behaved in a manner that is not appropriate towards her."

Garrick's eyes widened. "Godric! You did not... you did not compromise her virtue, did you?"

Godric was taken aback. "What?!? Of course not! Do you think me a scoundrel that I would prey upon hapless women?"

Garrick looked at his brother, then laughed and shook his head. "No, I suppose not." Garrick paused, then turned to face his brother. "You are avoiding her, aren't you?"

Godric did not answer.

Garrick laughed. "So, the brave Godric Gryffindor had finally been beaten by a lady!"

Godric huffed.

Garrick's face turned serious. "What are you _really_ doing here, brother? Surely it is not because of a simple matter of acting inappropriately. Why, if that is the case, then a simple apology would have solved the matter, would it not?"

Godric sighed and turned away. "It is not that simple, Garrick. Truly, had she been anyone else, I might have even considered courting her."

Garrick frowned at that last statement. "What is so peculiar about her that you cannot even consider courting her? She is not a muggle, is she? Or is she someone of royal blood?"

Godric shook his head. "No, she is neither muggle nor royalty."

"Then what is the problem? Is she already wed to another?" Garrick asked.

Godric hesitated in answering. Seeing that Garrick wouldn't relent unless he told him the truth, Godric gave in. "She is from the future."

Garrick raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"I meant exactly what I said. She is from exactly one thousand years in our future." Godric turned to face Garrick. "Now do you see why I must avoid her?"

"But time-travel is impossible! Surely you jest!" Garrick looked at him in disbelief.

Godric shook his head. "I wish I _was_ jesting, Garrick."

"What potion was she brewing that could possibly send her back in time?" Garrick frowned in confusion.

"She was in potions class. They were brewing a _memoriae_ potion. She was not exactly certain what went wrong, for it was not her potion that exploded," Godric said.

"_Memoriae_ potion... refresh my memory, Godric, but is that not supposed to be a counter-potion against the obliviate charm?" Garrick asked.

"The very one," Godric answered.

Garrick frowned. "That is a rather complicated potion to brew. I myself have made countless errors while learning to brew that one, but never have I encountered such an error as that."

"Yes, that is why we were all at a loss as to what to do. We have tried different combinations of that potion and experimented with whatever errors we can think of. None of them produced the kind of predicament that she'd gotten herself into. Eventually, we came to the conclusion that someone must have added a contaminated ingredient into their potion," Godric said.

"Hmm... yes, that makes sense. That also makes it difficult to reproduce," Garrick said.

"I agree," Godric replied.

They were silent for awhile as both thought over the situation. Suddenly, Garrick's face lit up, as if an idea just struck him.

"Godric, she has no way of returning, does she not?" Garrick asked.

"Not at the moment, but I would not rule out the possibility of her finding a way back," Godric replied.

"But think about it, no knowledge we currently have could possibly bring her back to the future. She is stranded here. It is much more likely that she will live out her days here and be part of history," Garrick said.

Godric frowned. "What are you trying to say, Garrick?"

Garrick turned to his brother. "Don't you see, Godric? She is as much part of history as you and I are!"

"And...?" Godric wasn't sure where his brother was heading, but he had a nagging feeling of what it might be.

"That means you are free to court her!" Garrick said with enthusiasm.

Godric was silent. He thought about his brother's statement, then sighed. "Your argument is based on the assumption that she will not find her way back. No, Garrick, I cannot take that chance. Besides... I am not in love with her."

Garrick rose an eyebrow. "For someone who is not in love with her, you surely are doing a very poor job at acting the part."

"What?" Godric looked stunned.

"Come now, dear brother! You wouldn't run away unless you think your feelings are strong enough to tempt you towards her?" Garrick said with a smirk.

Godric looked away. "I am not in love with her."

"Then why are you here?" Garrick rose an eyebrow.

Why indeed? Now that Garrick had pointed that out, Godric wasn't exactly sure of the answer himself. He groaned and leaned against the wall. He needed to think.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry, it took awhile to update. And thanks for the reviews! Author's notes and review replies are at the end of the chapter.

**Chapter 4**

Godric was wringing his hands and pacing restlessly in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady. Every so often, he would pause and stare at the portrait door, which led to his house's common room.

She was there. He was sure she was. The portrait had told her so.

He just wasn't sure if _he_ was ready to face her.

Not after all the things his brother said to him.

Godric wanted to bang his head against the wall. He was supposed to be brave, to set an example to his students. But for some reason, his feet refused to go in there.

"Well? Are you coming in or are you just going to stand there?" The Fat Lady looked at him with a hint of annoyance in her eyes.

Godric paused. Some days, he wondered what on earth he was drinking when he put that portrait there to guard the entrance to the common room. This was one of those days.

_Oh, for goodness' sake! I'm only talking to Hermione, not the bloody Wizengamot!_ Godric groaned. He rubbed his face with his hands. For the first time in his life, he was nervous.

Godric faced the portrait, then took a deep breath and muttered the password, "Carpe cerevisi!"

"Finally!" The Fat Lady rolled her eyes. The portrait swung open.

Godric ignored the portrait and walked through the portrait hole. His eyes scanned the common room. It was mostly empty, save for one lone figure sitting on the sofa by the fireplace.

Godric swallowed.

Hermione looked up as soon as she heard the portrait door swung open. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the tall figure standing there.

"You're back!" She smiled and shut the book she was reading. "When did you get back?"

Godric smiled and walked closer. "Just today."

"Where did you go?" Hermione asked.

Godric now stood almost next to where she sat. He was but a few feet away from her. "I went to see my brother and his family."

Hermione's eyes lit up. "Your brother? What is he like?"

Godric smiled and took the seat at the opposite end of the sofa where she sat. He told her about Garrick and his two boys, whom Godric was sure would get into his house one day.

Hermione laughed when Godric told her about his nephews. "They sound almost like Harry and Ron. Those two were always out there playing quidditch."

"Quidditch?" Godric raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, it's a ball game, played on brooms," Hermione said. She described to him the general rules of quidditch. She may not be an expert on quidditch, but one _does_ tend to get the idea after watching them for six and a half years.

"It sounds like a very interesting game," Godric mused. He then rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful. "In fact... it might not be a bad idea to have one at school."

Hermione blinked. Did she just accidentally 'invent' professional quidditch? She never bothered to read the history of quidditch, so she had no idea who invented it and when. That was Harry and Ron's area. They're the ones who were always reading _Quidditch Through The Ages_. A part of her started to wonder if the quidditch pitch that she had in her century was there partly because Godric got the idea from her.

Oops.

She looked at Godric again. She noticed that he was looking at the fire. He was fidgeting nervously.

Suddenly, Godric took a deep breath and looked at her. His face turned serious. "Miss Granger..." Godric paused, as if trying to gain strength for what he was about to say next. He called her again, "Hermione."

Hermione looked at him curiously. Godric had never called her by her first name until now. Something about his demeanor made her heart beat faster, but she didn't know why.

"About..." Godric paused. He looked at his feet nervously. Then, he took a deep breath and looked into her eyes. "About that day... when I... when we talked out in the courtyard..."

Hermione heart stopped. Yes, she remembered _that_ day. She blushed when she remembered it.

Godric continued. "I... I wanted to apologize. I was too forward and perhaps... unwelcome." The question in his eyes was evident as he looked at her.

Hermione's heart was beating furiously. She didn't want him to see her blush, so she looked away.

"It wasn't... unwelcome," Hermione said nervously without looking.

Godric's eyes lit up. He looked down at his feet, wondering what he should do next. He wanted to reach out to her and run away at the same time. He looked at her. His breath caught in his throat when he saw the blush on her face. She looked radiant. Her face glowed with the light reflected from the fireplace.

And suddenly he realized, this was no momentary attraction.

He moved closer and took her hand in his.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. She looked up and saw the intense look in his eyes. Her heart started to beat faster.

Godric looked at her hand in his. He swallowed nervously. "Hermione," He looked into her eyes, "I wondered if... perhaps... you would consider letting me court you?"

Hermione's heart stopped. Did he just ask what she thought he asked? Hermione blushed. She didn't dare look into his eyes, for fear of being drawn in. _This is wrong. This isn't supposed to happen._

But _oh_, her heart wanted to say 'yes!'

She looked at him. She saw the hopeful look in his eyes. At that moment, she could see his heart in his eyes. Suddenly, whatever objections she might have had was completely forgotten. All she could think of was how intense his gaze was.

And at that moment, her heart took over.

Then, slowly, she nodded.

oOo

It was a warm day outside. Hermione laid her head against Godric's chest as they sat at the edge of the lake. They were sitting underneath an oak tree. Godric had his arms around her. A book laid open on her lap. Godric had brought it earlier from his personal library.

Occasionally, Hermione would comment on a passage she read. Godric would answer her, offer his theories as best he could.

Neither had spoken about the future, though the thought certainly lingered in their minds from time to time. But for the moment, they were content to just sit here.

Tomorrow can wait.

Today, they will use whatever time they had and enjoy each other's company.

While they can.

oOo

Note:

_Carpe Cerevisi – seize the beer!_

_Boy, I had a hard time writing this chapter! Godric was so nervous, he made me nervous! I was wringing my hands and giggling at the same time when I wrote this. I'm glad my landlady didn't see me, or she'd think I'm insane. LOL!_

_The POV's kept changing between Godric and Hermione towards the end. I wanted to show both their feelings, but didn't know how to do that and indicate a change in POV's without interrupting the scene by inserting horribly ill-timed author's notes in between paragraphs. I tried indicate the change in POV's as clear as possible without ruining the scene. I hope it wasn't confusing_

_Sorry for not responding to the reviews sooner. I wasn't sure what's allowed and what's not in ff. net. Anyway, to answer some of your questions:_

**Mugglecast Pickles rock**: _Honestly, when I first wrote this, I thought that the robes that they wore for their uniforms pretty much covered everything from neck to ankle. And then I went back and saw pics from the movies and realized that their robes were open and would show her knees. Sorry, that was a lapse of judgment in my part._

**KaRis fLiiN hiGh**: _Yeah, I forgot about the language barrier. I'll be sure to remember that in my next fics. Thanks for reminding me! I'm fascinated with the medieval era as well (I even dressed up as 'fair maiden' to a medieval SCA event once!). I've read a few things about the medieval era. And thanks to my fascination with the Founders, I started reading up on them. As for Hermione/Draco... it's not my main pairing, but I think it's interesting because they were such bitter enemies._

**Granger21**: _I was focusing mainly on Godric and Hermione's relationship. I guess I was so intent on moving along with their relationship that I forgot about the other Founders altogether. I didn't include Hermione's interactions with the other Founders because I thought it was irrelevant to the plot (I guess I just wanted to get to the 'juicy' parts... LOL!)_

**Mariah Mercer-Potter-Snape**: _Harry/Helga, eh? Hmm... interesting. Never thought of that._


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

**Meanwhile, in the 20****th**** century**….

"Gone? What do you mean, gone?" Mr. Granger's face was turning red with anger as he glared at the witch and wizard who stood in their living room. The witch, austere, yet elegant in her appearance, had a grim, thin line across her lips as she informed the muggle couple that their beloved, _only_ daughter was missing— thanks to a potions accident during class.

"Please understand, Mr. Granger, we are doing everything we can to find her," McGonagall tried to placate the irate muggle who looked as if he was ready to explode.

"WELL YOU HAD BETTER FIND HER!! I don't know what you people do in that school of yours, but in our world, children do not simply _disappear_ in the middle of class!" Mr. Granger yelled, then turned on Slughorn, who had been sweating nervously next to McGonagall. Mr. Granger jabbed his finger angrily at Slughorn's plump chest and said, "You! What kind of a teacher are you that you can't even control your damned class?!?"

"Albert, please…" Mrs. Granger tugged on her husband's sleeve, but Albert Granger shrugged her off and continued his tirade on the already nervous Slughorn. Slughorn looked as if he'd rather be anywhere than in this posh, muggle living room. Normally, he would've loved to examine the ancient Ming vase that graced the corner of the room, or the intricate Persian tapestry depicting a scene from Solomon's court hanging on the left wall of the room. But at the moment, Slughorn would've preferred a dingy, battered hut rather than face the Grangers' wrath in their elegant home.

"You had _better_ find my daughter soon, or I'll expose you lot to the world!" Mr. Granger threatened.

"Albert! Please!" Mrs. Granger shoved her husband back, then looked at Slughorn and McGonagall apologetically.

"M-Mr. G-Granger, please… t-there's n-no need for that. I assure you, we _will_ find your daughter, one way or another!" Slughorn said hurriedly while thinking of the possibility of polyjuicing a random student to look like Hermione in order to appease the irate muggles. Or perhaps a good dose of obliviate? Yes, that would certainly—

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, please. We _are_ doing everything we can to find your daughter. We will not rest until we find her," McGonagall said.

"Please understand, Headmistress, we're worried about our daughter. Ever since she attended that school of yours, it seemed her life has been nothing but one series of misfortune after another. We understand that accidents do happen, but… we'd like our daughter back. Is there no way to find out where she's gone?" Mrs. Granger asked as calmly as she could. Inwardly, she was an utter mess. It was by sheer will alone that she managed not to break down and cry in front of their 'guests'.

"We're trying, Mrs. Granger. Believe me, we are. But at the moment, your daughter could be anywhere! We're sending out search parties even as we speak. We've sent a sample of the potion that splattered on her to the best potions master out there for analysis. We're researching ways to retrieve her even now," McGonagall said.

"Retrieve her? How?" Mrs. Granger frown.

"We have a variety of summoning charms, although none of them had ever been used on a human before. We're trying to find safe ways to summon her from wherever she is, if possible," McGonagall said.

"Summon her? As in… calling her and she'll pop-up like they do on TV?" Mrs. Granger asked with a frown.

McGonagall looked at her in confusion. "Well, I'm not exactly sure what they do on this… tee-vee of yours, but it might be a bit more complicated than simply calling her, depending on where she is. But yes, it's something to that effect."

The Grangers looked at each other, then at McGonagall.

"Is that safe? I mean, you said it's never been done on a human before. How will we know if our daughter will be alright if you use it?" Mrs. Granger asked.

"Which is why we're trying to see if it can be done safely or not. We will test it first, just to make sure. But it would take us some time to find the appropriate summoning charm before we can even do that," McGonagall said.

That seemed to appease the Grangers somewhat. At least there _was_ a way to get Hermione back. Though how safe and reliable this 'summoning charm' was, they suspected no one really knew.

McGonagall and Slughorn left after that. They apparated back to Hogsmeade and slowly made their way back to Hogwarts. As soon as the castle was within view, Slughorn let out a sigh of relief.

"Nasty business, informing parents," Slughorn commented.

"Nonetheless, it must be done. They have a right to know what happened to their daughter," McGonagall said. Then, she turned to face Slughorn and said, "Are you certain she didn't simply apparate away?"

"You know as well as I do that apparating is impossible within school grounds." Slughorn said.

"Yes, but… perhaps the potion managed to counteract that somehow?" McGonagall asked hopefully.

Slughorn frowned, then shook his head. "I'm not discounting the possibility. But, given the ingredients that were found around the table, it was unlikely that such a combination could trigger a counter-spell to the thousand year old shield that the Founders had set up. It's powerful, ancient magic that prevented people from apparating within school grounds. I doubt a single potion could have dispelled the barrier, or even made a hole in it. But, as I said, I'm not discounting the possibility— yet. How's the research for the summoning charm going?"

McGonagall let out a long sigh. "We have ways of summoning objects, snakes, dragons, even _cows_. But not _one_ of those spells were designed to summon a human. We might have to modify them somehow— if that's even possible."

"I'm sure it's possible. We'll find her, somehow," Slughorn said.

"Yes," McGonagall said with less conviction than Slughorn.

**Back in 10****th**** century Hogwarts…**

For the past few days, it felt as if the world revolved around _them_. Hermione leaned against the window sill, looking wistfully at the lake that held so much memories of her past in the future. Behind her stood Godric with his arms wrapped around her waist. She sighed and leaned back against his chest. _This was bliss_, she thought. She could get used to this: lazy Sunday afternoons, watching the lake with Godric, not NEWTs or death-threats hanging over her head. Simply bliss.

A tiny part of her mind wondered if any of her friends realized she was gone. If she ever got back, would any time have passed at all? Did she even _want_ to go back?

"Hermione," Godric's voice broke through her reverie.

"Hm?"

"What will you do, if we ever find away to get you back to your time?" Godric asked. Was it her imagination, or did she detect a hint of trepidation in his voice?

Hermione sighed. "I don't know. I wish I could stay. I miss my friends and family, but… I don't want to leave you."

"If I ask you to stay, will you stay?" Godric asked. Though Hermione couldn't hear it, his heart was beating a mile a minute. He waited fervently for her answer, which seemed to take an eternity to him.

Hermione bit her lips. "I… I wish I could… could I? Would… would it change anything if I did?"

"I don't know," Godric drew her tighter against him, as if he was trying to drink in her warmth before she disappeared from his life forever. He nuzzled the crook of her neck and heard her sigh. She smelled like cinnamon and roses. He closed his eyes, trying to memorize her scent. If she were to leave, the memory of her scent would have to tide him over for the lonely years he would spend without her.

"I really do want to stay, Godric," Hermione said quietly.

"Then stay," Godric begged her.

"But… what about the future?" Hermione asked with a worried tone.

"Let tomorrow worry for its own. It's not for us to control. You're here now. With me," Godric said as he buried his face in her hair.

"I… I don't know, Godric. I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what I'll change if I stay," Hermione said in half-a-whisper.

Godric sighed. He wanted to shake her and demand that she stay, but he knew he couldn't force her. Still, he was not about to let her go.

"Then, if you go, I shall go with you," Godric said.

Hermione froze. She spun in his arms and turned to face him. "You would do that?"

Godric cupped her face and looked at her intently. "I would follow you to the ends of the Earth, if need be."

"But… what if you weren't meant to go? You could change history—"

"It's too late for that." Godric tilted her chin and looked deeply into her eyes. "I am not letting you go."

Then, slowly, he dipped his head and brushed her lips with his.

Hermione's heart skipped a beat. His kiss was tender and soft, but it made her tremble nonetheless. She gripped the front of his tunic and leaned into his kiss. She breathed in his strong woodsy scent and sighed as they drew apart.

"I think I'm falling for you, Hermione Granger," Godric whispered.

Hermione was speechless. She felt the butterflies in her stomach return as she gazed into his sincere eyes.

Godric stared at her nervously. "I… I understand if you don't feel the same way. It's to early for—"

"Godric?" Hermione touched the side of his face.

"Yes?" Godric looked up at her hopefully.

Her eyes danced with joy and mirth. She gazed deeply into his eyes, then said, "I love you too. Now shut up and kiss me."

Godric grinned, then pressed his lips against hers.

oOo

**Hogwarts, sometime in the 20****st**** century**

"Are you sure this would work? What if we accidentally merged her with a cow?" Hooch looked dubiously at the white circle at the center of the abandoned classroom. Ancient runes were written in white chalk along the rim of the circle. Standing around the circle were all the teachers and staff members of Hogwarts (except Filch, since he had no magical powers to lend in this endeavor).

"Then it's a good thing we have a two transfiguration experts in here, now isn't it?" Slughorn commented while pointing at McGonagall and Longhawke, the new transfigurations teacher that took over McGonagall's position after she became Headmistress.

"Oh, shut up, Horace! You know that doesn't help at all!" Sinistra cast the plump Potions Master a stern glance.

"That's enough, both of you!" McGonagall said. Sinistra and Slughorn cast a guilty look and quieted down. She then turned to Flitwick and asked, "Filius, are you ready?"

Flitwick nodded. He took out his wand, then paused and looked at the others. They too, had their wands drawn.

"Now, if you could all stand in a perfect circle… that's right. No jostling, now. We need a bit of an elbow room, after all. Good. Are all ready?" Flitwick glanced around. Everyone stood on attention and were looking at Flitwick expectantly.

"Now, at the count of three, we will begin our summoning chant. No mistakes now, do you hear! A students' life depends on this. Remember to focus on Miss Granger. Try to see her as clearly as you could in your minds. One, two.. three…!" Flitwick raised his wand and began the summoning chant that would hopefully bring Hermione back from wherever she was.

* * *

_A/N: Ack! Don't hate me!! Sorry for not updating so long. Well, I hope this chapter makes up for my long absence. I know I'm going a bit fast, but I wanted to get this story moving quickly. To those of you who were wondering about the new title, I've decided to change it. I hated the title "Murphy's Law". It's got nothing to do with the plot of the story at all (well, it does, sort of, but I still hate it). I know, it's bad form to change a title in the middle of the story, but hey… _

_To __**Vulpes22**__: I hope this answers your question!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The room swirled with magic as the teachers gathered around the circle. Their voices rose as one as they chanted the incantation that would bring Hermione back. A bluish light swirled at the center and pulsed steadily as it grew. As they continued to chant and chant, the light grew until it touched the borders of the circle.

Then the light dissipated.

All eyes snapped open to greet Hermione.

But she wasn't there.

"What?" Hooch frowned in confusion.

"Filius, are you sure that was the right incantation?" McGonagall looked sternly at Flitwick, who was fidgeting with worry and scratching his head in confusion at the same time.

"Yes! I had researched _all_ the known summoning charms. This is the only one we can use in this situation. I could not imagine what could have gone wrong! Unless she's nowhere on this plane of existence—" Flitwick trailed off and began fidgeting once more.

"Filius... what exactly are you saying?" McGonagall's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Flitwick gulped. "T-the only way this incantation wouldn't work is if... if the lady in question is no longer..." Flitwick swallowed and said, "On Earth."

"Are you saying that she's _dead?!_" Hooch glared at Flitwick.

"_What?!_" Several people hissed in disbelief. Slughorn looked as if he was torn between fainting and running away. If Hermione was dead, his career was done for. No one would trust him as a Potions Master anymore. Worse yet, he'd be facing severe inquiries from the Ministry. He'd be lucky if he could escape Azkaban.

All at once, the whole room broke into many arguments:

"Filius, you check that incantation again or so _help_ me, I will _hex_ you into the next century if you don't!"

"Dead? She can't be dead!"

"What are we going to tell her parents?"

"Horace, don't you _dare_ run away at a time like this!"

"QUIET!!" McGonagall shouted. All voices in the room stopped as everyone turned to look at their irate Headmistress.

"We will go _nowhere_ by arguing amongst each other. It's clear enough to me that nothing will be accomplished tonight. Now, I suggest we stop for now. But I want _none_ of you to rest until you come up with at least _some_ theory as to what might have happened to Miss Granger. We'll convene again tomorrow and discuss what we've all come up with." McGonagall said.

Grateful for the reprieve, yet disappointed as well due to lack of results, everyone slowly filed out of the room. Not a single word passed between each teacher as they tiredly made their way to their quarters, or— in Flitwick and Slughorn's case —to the library.

oOo

Books and scrolls were laid open on the desk in front of Godric as he sat in his office (which looked just as crowded with magical artifacts as Dumbledore's office would be in the future, but with much less portraits and more red and gold themed furniture). He wrote a few sentences on the parchment, then crossed it out again. He rubbed his chin, then skimmed the scroll laid open next to the inkwell. For some reason, no matter how many times he read over that paragraph, his mind drew nothing but a blank when he tried to recall what he had just read. Eventually, he gave up, threw his quill down on the parchment, and sighed in resignation.

Try as he might, he could not shake off the fear that his time with Hermione might end abruptly someday. What if she managed to find a way back to the future? Would she still leave him?

A traitorous voice whispered in his mind: What if Hermione felt as if there was nothing holding her back in this time? What if her feelings for him weren't enough to make her stay?

Godric swallowed. The thought of losing Hermione was something he didn't like to contemplate.

He'd have to ensure that she wouldn't leave him. Ever.

But... how?

oOo

Hermione sat on the stone bench in the courtyard with a book laid open before her. It was a warm day. So, she decided to catch up on some reading. She read a few sentences, then stopped and sighed. Try as she might, her mind just couldn't concentrate on the words before her. There was just something about sitting alone in a quiet place that brings unwanted thoughts to the surface of one's mind. The things she had been avoiding to think about suddenly began to nag her once more.

True, her research had taken a backseat lately since she'd been so "distracted" with Godric (and what a lovely distraction it was!) But that didn't mean she should stop looking for a way back… should she? Then again, now that she's courting Godric, should she really be looking for a way back?

Part of her had begun to accept that she might never go back to her time. Though she'd be somewhat disappointed if that were to happen, a part of her was glad nonetheless. She didn't want to leave Godric.

But what if she _did_ find a way back, what should she choose?

Her heart was torn. She missed her parents. She missed Harry and Ron. She missed all her friends there. And she knew she couldn't leave Harry to fight alone.

But she didn't want to leave Godric, either.

"What am I going to do?" Hermione sighed.

Suddenly, the sound of rustling fabric caught her attention. Hermione turned in time to see Helga walking towards her.

"Good morning," Helga said with a smile.

"Good morning." Hermione replied.

"Quite a change, seeing you here without Godric glued to your side," Helga said with a teasing smile.

Hermione blushed. "He was, erm... busy."

Helga and smiled. "Ah. Preparing for next year's lessons?"

"Yes. At least, that's what he said," Hermione replied.

Helga sat down on the stone bench next to Hermione and said, "You looked troubled."

"I've had a lot on my mind lately," Hermione said while looking down on her book, though she hardly registered any word written on the text.

"They say troubles are best shared between friends." Helga glanced at the young witch next to her and smiled. "It makes them less intimidating that way."

"I just..." Hermione started to say, but changed her mind and shook her head instead. "Nevermind. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"About what?" Helga asked.

Hermione sighed again, then said, "I don't even have a way back to the future. And here I am worrying what I would do if I _did_ find a way back."

Helga looked at her for a minute, then replied, "You're worried about Godric."

Hermione nodded.

"Do you love him?" Helga asked.

"Well, yes." Hermione said. Then, she looked down on her lap and said, "It's just that… I'm wondering if… if I loved him enough to completely give up on the idea of ever seeing my family and friends in the future. What if I chose to stay, then grow to resent him afterwards?"

"What if you chose to go back, and regret your decision afterwards?" Helga said.

Hermione was silent. She never thought to look at it from _that_ point of view.

Hermione sighed. "I don't know what to decide. I miss my family and friends. The idea of saying 'goodbye' to them forever scares me. But at the same time, I can't imagine having to live the rest of my life without Godric. I don't know if I'll ever be able to decide."

"Then don't." Helga said.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at Helga's words.

"No one is telling you to decide now. Besides, you've only just started courting Godric. Give it some time. Who knows, perhaps one day, your heart will make your decisions for you." Helga said.

Hermione nodded quietly and contemplated Helga's words long after the Founder had left.

oOo

Various suggestions were thrown across the staff room as teachers come up with various explanations, ranging from the ordinary to downright impossible. They had been sitting here for half an hour discussing possibilities. So far, none of the suggestions made any sense.

"What? What's so impossible with her being on the moon? It's not on Earth, after all." Hooch said.

"Yes, well, your forgetting one crucial thing, Miranda," Sinistra said.

"What?" Hooch raised her eyebrow at the astronomy teacher.

"There's no air on the moon. She'll suffocate before she could even cast a bubblehead charm on herself. If she _did_ end up on the moon, I daresay her chances of surviving _this_ long are slim to none." Sinistra said.

"It doesn't take _that_ long to cast a bubblehead charm! Besides, we've all experienced accidental magic as children, who's to say that the same won't happen to her?" Hooch argued.

"She is no longer a child, Miranda. The chances of accidental magic occurring grows less with age because we are more controlled by then. Can you tell me how many of your seventh year students who fell off their brooms bounced back from the ground like little children sometimes do?" Filius raised his eyebrow at Hooch.

Hooch grew quiet. Come to think of it, she could not think of a single student above fourth year who exhibited any sort of accidental magic during quidditch mishaps. But still…

"Well, _that_ aside, there's no reason why the potion _couldn't_ have sent her there!" Hooch stubbornly insisted.

"If we're going to even consider her being on the moon, or even in other planets, where are we even going to _begin_ to search? There are literally _billions_ of places she could've ended up in." Sinistra said.

"And keep in mind, no wizard or witch has _ever_ been able to apparate to the moon, much less other planets. There's not even a single _proven_ case of a wizard or witch stepping foot on places outside Earth— by _any_ means at all." Flitwick said.

"Muggles did it. Why can't we?" Hooch asked.

"Because we rely on magic. And unlike this 'science and technology' that muggles rely upon, it's more difficult to invent new spells due to various limitations such as language, and the power necessary to perform certain spells. And apparating to the moon requires much more power and focus than simply apparating to London." Flitwick said.

"_I've_ another suggestion," Vector said all of the sudden.

Weary, yet curious at the same time, all eyes turned to Vector.

"Time travel." Vector suggested.

"Time travel?" McGonagall raised her eyebrow.

"It's a plausible result, isn't it? Think about it. If she can't be on Earth, then the only other possibilities are: a) She's dead. Or b) She's in another dimension, c) She's in another planet, or d) She's in another time." Vector said.

Everyone looked thoughtful.

"It's... more plausible than her being on the moon..." Sinistra said thoughtfully.

"And time-travel _has_ been done before." Flitwick nodded.

"Shall we pursue this theory, then?" McGonagall asked.

Several teachers nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Good. Then Filius, here's what I want you to do: Try to find a way to summon Miss Granger from across time. And Horace, _try_ to re-examine that potion again. This time, look for any signs of time-travel. See if you can find out how far back she went— _if_ she travelled through time at all. The rest of you, research past records, your memories— _anything_. See if you can find any clues as to Miss Granger's presence in the past. Look up ancestry records if you have to. Do not discount _anything_." McGonagall said.

"Ancestry records? Aren't we going a bit overboard with this?" Sinistra raised an eyebrow.

"One can never be too careful," Flitwick said. "We don't know how far back she travelled— _if_ she travelled to the past at all. For all we know, she might be in the future."

The room grew silent.

"In that case, Flitwick, look up possibilities of summoning her from the future as well," McGonagall said.

Flitwick nodded.

"Well then, any other comments before we proceed?" McGonagall looked around the room. Heads shook. Satisfied that there were no more questions, McGonagall nodded and said, "Good. In that case, we'll meet again the same time tomorrow morning and compare our results."

Weary sighs echoed around the room as teachers rose to their feet and reluctantly went on to teach their classes for the day.

oOo

"Should you really be worrying over this? She is going nowhere, Godric." Salazar said as they both sat in Salazar's office. Two, silver goblets of mead lay on the desk between them.

"But she will. One day, she will." Godric said as he reached for one of the goblets and gulped down the mead as if it would calm his nerves. It didn't, of course. But it did provide him with something to fiddle with while his mind was preoccupied with worry.

"You don't know that." Salazar said. He absent-mindedly twisted around the goblet in his hand, then said to Godric, "Why her, Godric?"

"She is... I don't know. She's brilliant, courageous. She speaks her mind—"

"You actually _want_ her to speak her mind?" Salazar looked at his friend as if he'd grown two heads.

"I find it refreshing, don't you?" Godric said.

"No." Salazar said with a distasteful look in his eyes. "Besides, she's muggleborn."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Godric raised his eyebrow challengingly.

Salazar raised an eyebrow, then sipped his mead.

"Salazar..." Godric narrowed his gaze at his friend.

"I am merely saying, she is not my type." Salazar finally replied.

Godric snorted. "Your 'type' is hardly what I would call alluring: pale, sickly, inbred..."

"Watch it, Godric. I have not insulted Miss Granger yet. Do not tempt me." Salazar said tersely.

Godric backed away and said, "My apologies. You know how I am when it comes to Hermione."

Salazar nodded, but did not reply.

"For what it's worth, I am glad she's not your type. I would hate to have to compete with you for her affections." Godric said lightly.

"Trust me, that would _never_ happen." Salazar said with a hint of disgust in his voice. Then, with a smirk, he added, "But if it does, you'd be right to worry. No woman has ever been able to resist the Slytherin charm."

Godric wanted to gag. "Humble, aren't we?"

"Of course." Salazar said with a smile.

Godric leaned back in his chair, then took a deep breath and sighed. "What should I do, Salazar? She misses her friends and family. Perhaps it's too early to be worrying over this, but the possibility of her going back is still there. What happens if she had to make a choice? I can't very well _forbid_ her from going back to her time. And yet... I wish to keep her here. Always."

"Then get her pregnant." Salazar said all of the sudden.

Godric choked on his drink and began coughing. "_W-what?!_"

"It's quite simple. If she's with child, particularly _your_ child, then she would stay. What mother would want to leave their child behind? And even if she takes the child, she would have to raise it on her own. No woman I know would do such a thing by choice, not when there is a man willing to be a husband to her and a father to her child." Salazar said.

Godric was too stunned to even reply.

oOo

Harry stayed up late this night as he and Ron sat by the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Both wore a worried expression in their faces.

"Do you think they'll ever find Hermione?" Ron asked.

"I don't know, Ron." Harry said as he absent-mindedly poked the dying embers in the fireplace with a fire poker. He had been berating himself for his mistake during potions class ever since Hermione disappeared. If only he had been paying more attention. If only he had skipped class that day. If only he had… well... done _anything_ besides muck up his potion, then Hermione wouldn't have disappeared. She'd still be with them, nagging them about NEWTs and homework as usual.

"Do you think she's... you know... dead?" Ron gulped.

Harry stiffened. _Dead?_ His mind kept conjuring images of a bloodied, lifeless Hermione. Harry's gaze hardened. _No!_ He refused to believe it! Hermione couldn't be dead! She just couldn't be! Harry angrily poked a red ember until it broke into pieces. Tiny sparks of fire flew from the broken pieces.

"She's _not _dead!" Harry said with a half-growl. He turned to Ron and said, "I can't believe you'd even consider that."

"I was just—"

Harry threw the fire poker away angrily and stood up.

"If they don't find her, _I_ will. Even if I have to use dark magic to do it!" Harry said with an angry determination in his eyes. He would rectify his own mistake, no matter what the cost. Hermione's disappearance was his fault. He _had_ to find her!

Ron gulped. "Harry..."

"Are you with me or aren't you?" Harry glared at his friend.

"Of course I am, you idiot!" Ron stood up. He turned to his friend and said, "But Harry, if they catch us using dark magic... this isn't like sneaking out in the middle of the night to go to the Forbidden Forest, you know? We can go to Azkaban for this!"

"We could've gone to Azkaban for sneaking into the Department of Mysteries, remember?" Harry said. "Besides, since when did the threat of Azkaban ever stop us?"

"Well..." Ron took a step back and looked thoughtfully. Then, his eyes widened and he said, "You know... you're right. It never did."

Harry smiled triumphantly. Then, he turned and started walking towards the stairs that led to the boys' dormitory.

"What? That's it? No plans, no... nothing?" Ron looked at his friend in disbelief. It wasn't like Harry to leave things hanging like this.

"I'm just going to get my invisibility cloak." Harry explained.

"Oh." Ron relaxed. "Wait... where are we going?"

"The library. We're going to try the Restricted Section first. If we can't find anything there, we'll go to Grimmauld Place. I know they have a lot of books on dark magic there." Harry said.

Ron nodded, then sat down again to wait for Harry as he went to fetch his invisibility cloak upstairs.

oOo

"Hey." Hermione smiled as soon as she saw Godric walk into the common room.

Godric's eyes lit up at her smile. He walked over to the sofa where she was sitting and sat down next to her. Then, he took her hand and gently kissed it.

"Busy day?" Hermione asked.

"More or less," Godric said cryptically, then smiled in an attempt to dispel any possible questions from Hermione. "And how did your day go?"

"Oh, it was fine." Hermione said.

"_Just_ fine?" Godric raised an eyebrow.

"You were busy. Do you honestly want me to answer that I had a great time without you?" Hermione's eyes twinkled playfully as she spoke.

Godric laughed, then kissed her on her forehead. "As long as you did not have that 'great' time with another male, I shall cope with the disappointment."

Hermione giggled, then drew her arms around him. "You know that will never happen."

Instead of answering, Godric laid his hand around her shoulders and drew her closer to him as she leaned on his shoulders.

"Unless, of course, the said 'male' happened to be our— er, I mean… my son. I-in the future, that is." Hermione added before belatedly realizing the awkwardness of what she'd just said. She tried not to let her embarrassment show and chose to focus on Godric instead.

Godric's heart jumped at her words. _Her son._ All of the sudden, Salazar's words began to echo in his mind like a command from an imperius curse.

_Get her pregnant._

Godric coughed nervously.

"Godric? Are you alright?" Hermione looked up.

Godric swallowed and tried to look as non-challant as possible. "Y-yes. Quite."

Hermione frowned and looked at him in scrutiny. "Are you _sure_ you're alright? You look... I don't know... fidgety."

"Fidgety?" Godric raised an eyebrow. Was that even a word? He turned to Hermione and gave her the calmest smile he could muster (even though he was extremely nervous on the inside). "I am _fine_, love."

Godric couldn't help but notice their closeness. She smelled of wild flowers. Her skin felt soft to his touch. His gaze trailed down to her stomach and couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to see her with a rounded belly, knowing that it was _his_ child that she was carrying.

Even _thinking_ of Hermione pregnant with _his_ child made Godric's heart beat anew. The very idea both intrigued and scared him at the same time. He knew without a doubt that he would protect her and care for her with all his being. But... was he ready for marriage, much less fatherhood?

"Hermione?" Godric finally asked.

"Hm?" Hermione looked up.

"Do you want children?" Godric blurted out.

Hermione was floored. "W-what?"

"N-not now, later! Wait, that's not what I meant. I mean… not _later_ later, er… that is…" Godric berated himself for not being able to speak clearly.

"Is this some convoluted way of asking me to have sex with you?" Hermione looked at him suspiciously.

"N-no!" Godric's face turned beet red. "That's not… I mean…. n-not that you're not desirable, because you _are_. And I _do_ want to, er… you know… but n-not right _now_. I mean…" Godric took deep breath, then said, "I meant… do you wish to have children… i-in the future! After, er… when we.. _if_ we marry…"

"Uh…" Hermione was speechless. He was thinking _that_ far ahead? And here she was, still wondering whether she should stay with him or not? She looked down on her lap and said, "I… I don't know. To be honest… I haven't even thought that far ahead. I suppose… I want to have children someday. Why do you ask?"

"Er…" Godric gulped nervously. What was he supposed to say? That he was thinking about getting her pregnant? _Right. And while I'm at it, perhaps I should just ask her to bend over and let me have my way with her?_ Godric thought sarcastically and mentally snorted at the idea.

"Godric?" Hermione said when Godric didn't answer.

"I was just… wondering. That's all." Godric finally answered. Then, wanting to dispel the awkwardness between them, he bent down and gently kissed her lips.

When they broke away, Hermione touched his cheeks and looked at him with searching eyes. "Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

Godric sighed. He looked at Hermione and said, "Am I really that transparent?"

Hermione smiled, then said, "You're not exactly the most subtle person in the world."

Godric drew her into his arms, taking comfort in her warmth. He laid his head atop hers, then sighed.

Godric opened his mouth, ready to tell her _exactly_ what was bothering him (well… alright, not _exactly_ what was bothering him. He couldn't exactly tell her that he was thinking about getting her pregnant, now could he?) But then, a thought struck him and made him stop before he could say anything. What if he _did_ tell her that he was afraid she'd go back to the future? What good would it make, besides weighing her down with more worries? He didn't want to force her to stay. And yet… he couldn't let go.

_Get her pregnant_, Salazar's words echoed in his mind once more.

Godric swallowed. That was it, wasn't it? It was the only solution to his dilemma. He looked at the woman in his arms and couldn't help but wonder what would it be like to have her for the rest of his life?

For some reason, his heart began to beat faster at the thought.

"Hermione…" Godric began.

"Hm?" Hermione asked. She could tell something _was_ bothering Godric, but didn't want to pressure him too much. So, she waited for him to speak.

"What would you say if…" Godric gulped nervously. "If I were to ask you to marry me?"

Hermione froze. Her heart skipped a million beats at his question. _Marry him?_ His question echoed over and over in her mind. What should she say? She loved him and wanted to be with him, that much was certain. But… would she love him enough to give up her friends and family and stay with him for the rest of her life? What if, twenty years down the road, she'd grow to resent him for making her stay?

"I… I don't know." Hermione swallowed. "Are you asking?"

"What if I am? What would you say?" Godric's heart began to beat nervously as he waited for her reply.

"I… I would need to think about this first. I mean… we've just started courting," Hermione replied. Inwardly, she couldn't help but feel guilty at her own reply. It sounded like an excuse in her mind— nothing but a horrible, painful excuse to buy more time because she was still uncertain as to whether or not she wanted to stay.

Godric felt his heart sank. _She's going to say no._ He wanted to berate himself for asking her so soon. He should've waited. But… he didn't want to wait, didn't he? Any day that she wasn't bound to him would be one more day that she could decide to go back to her own time.

"I… I understand. It was too soon, anyway," Godric couldn't hide the disappointment that laced his voice.

Hermione felt the pang of guilt return. She tightened her arms around Godric, as if to reassure him that she's not pushing him away.

"I'm not saying 'no', Godric. I just… need time, that's all." Hermione said.

"Of course." Godric said weakly.

Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his chest, thereby giving the illusion of relaxation (though inside she was anything _but_).

oOo

Harry and Ron looked the drawing room in Grimmauld Place with mixed reactions. Neither boy had been back here for quite awhile. The house was so full of memories, especially for Harry. And yet, it felt strangely barren and lonely. The Order had long since abandoned the house. Exactly _where_ the Order now met, neither boy had any idea, since they hadn't been invited to any of the meetings.

They searched through the books in the drawing room. They had gone to the Restricted Section in the library at Hogwarts yesterday, but found nothing that could help them bring Hermione back. So, the boys resorted to looking through the collection of books in Grimmauld Place— particularly the Dark Arts books.

After an hour or so searching, Ron suddenly ran to Harry while holding open the book he had been reading.

"Look here, Harry! It's a spell that could detect _souls_." Ron shoved the book over to Harry. "Think we can use it to find Hermione?"

"You mean, like… hone in on her soul or something?" Harry raised his eyebrow.

"It's worth a shot," Ron shrugged.

Harry frowned and grabbed the book from Ron. He skimmed through the descriptions of the spell until his eyes caught one particular line on the book.

"It'll only work if the soul is nearby, like… in the same room. We don't even know _where_ Hermione is." Harry said.

Ron sighed and took the book back. He was just about to flip the page over when Harry stopped him.

"Wait a minute. Mark that page. Maybe we can use it to find the horcruxes." Harry said.

Ron did as he was told. Then, the boys resumed their search.

oOo

"Are you sure, Horace? That's a little… far, don't you think?" McGonagall said as the teachers gathered around the staff room once more.

"With the amount mixed in with her potion, I'd be surprised if she wasn't thrown even further back." Horace said as he slumped in one of the cushy chairs in the staff room.

"Can't you be more specific? At this rate, we could accidentally summon her fifty years _after_ she arrived." Flitwick said. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And that's _if_ we get lucky enough to summon her while she was alive. At this rate, we might accidentally summon her dried bones from her grave."

"It's about as specific as I could get, Filius. I don't exactly have _all_ of the potion that was thrown at her. The amounts I came up with were the best estimate I could make from the sample I managed to save." Slughorn said defensively.

"Yes but… anywhere between 800 to 1000 years? That's a huge gap, Horace!" Hooch said.

"You have to remember that this is a _mere_ sample that I'm working with. In any case, at least we've narrowed it down to those two centuries." Slughorn said.

There was a collective sigh of resignation around the room.

"And Filius? What of your findings?" McGonagall asked.

"Well," Flitwick spoke up. "There _is_ a way to summon a person from the past… but there is a slight problem."

Hooch groaned. "Please don't tell us it's not precise, either."

"No, not _that_." Flitwick glared testily at Hooch. Then, to everyone else, he said, "We need to summon her from behind the veil."

"The veil?" Sinistra raised her eyebrow.

"The one in the Department of Mysteries." Flitwick said.

"You're joking." Vector looked at Flitwick.

"Unfortunately… no." Flitwick said.

"Well… who's up for breaking and entering into the Ministry?" Hooch said jokingly.

"Really, Miranda!" Sinistra glared at Hooch.

"What? I was only joking." Hooch replied defensively.

"Be that as it may, Miranda's right. You know how the Ministry is. It would take _months_ before the Ministry would even approve of this. And, knowing the Ministry, Miss Granger would probably have to undergo severe inquiries— and perhaps even worse —for endangering the timeline." McGonagall said.

Silence reigned around the room.

"Just for the record, I'm not exactly thrilled about the idea of sneaking into the Ministry." Sinistra said.

"Duly noted." McGonagall said testily. She looked around the room, then said, "This is a very risky move. We could be caught and be stripped of our jobs. But on the other hand, we will be saving not only Miss Granger from a severe trial, but we will also prevent her parents from following through with their threat of exposing us to the muggle world."

"They were threatening to do that?" Hooch asked in surprise.

"Oh yes… among other things…" Slughorn muttered testily.

Ignoring Slughorn, McGonagall turned to the rest of the teachers and said, "Shall we vote on this?"

.

.

.

To be continued...

* * *

_Note:_

_For those of you who don't know what mead is, it's a type of sweet, alcoholic drink that was popular during the middle ages (I think. I tried it once during a medieval re-enactment gathering. It's really good!)_

_Sorry for not updating for awhile. I hope this chapter makes up for my long absence! I'm guessing this story only has 2 or 3 more chapters to go… maybe even less. But, just so you know, I'm working full-time. Plus, I've decided to go back to school at the same time (yeah, I'm a 'bit' ambitious. Even my parents wanted me to reduce the number of classes I'm taking… which I refused to do). I probably won't have as much free time as I used to. I'll try to update faster, but I make no guarantees._

_I tried not to make any grammatical or spelling mistakes. But in case I missed anything, please let me know!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

McGonagall stared around the room as hands slowly rose one by one. To everyone's surprise, even Firenze raised his hand. Out of all the teachers in the room, only Slughorn and Sinistra did not raise their hands.

"So, those of you who raised your hands, you understand the risks involved in sneaking into the Ministry?" McGonagall asked.

Several heads nodded.

"_You_, Miranda?" Sinistra raised her eyebrow at Hooch, who had raised her hand to volunteer to sneak into the Ministry along with the other teachers. "Weren't you the one objecting to this earlier?"

"Hey, I may not like the idea, but I'm not sitting on my pretty little bum when my colleagues are out risking themselves. Besides, it's not as if I want to see Miss Granger on trial," Hooch replied.

Sinistra snorted and gave Hooch a sharp, offended look. "I'm _not_ sitting on my 'pretty little bum', I just have... reservations... about this."

"I never said you were," Hooch said with a raised eyebrow.

"You implied it," Sinistra said testily.

"That's _enough!_ Both of you! I've said this in the beginning and I will say this again: I will _not_ pressure anyone into going. And I'd expect _all_ of you to do the same." McGonagall said.

Sinistra and Hooch grew silent, though Sinistra continued to shoot daggers at Hooch from time to time (and she's not the only one doing so, either).

Ignoring the silent glares that were being thrown across the room, McGonagall cleared her throat and said, "In that case, here's what I want everyone to do: try to find out everything you can about the time period between the 10th and the 12th century. I know we've only found very little clues so far, but now that we've narrowed down the time in which she might have ended up, perhaps we'll see something we missed before. Even if it doesn't seem to relate to Miss Granger directly, if you find it suspicious, report it. We need to make an educated guess here as to how far back do we want to summon her from. And Filius, are you ready with the summoning charm?"

"I just need the date. Otherwise, I'm ready." Flitwick said.

"Very well then. Miranda, I want you to find out all you can about the Department of Mysteries." McGonagall said.

Hooch nodded and said, "I'll try. There's not much we know about them."

"Didn't Mr. Potter and a few other students manage to sneak in there a couple years back?" Flitwick asked.

"Hmm... actually, yes they did." Hooch said.

"I'm willing to bet that after that fiasco, the Ministry probably changed the layout of the Department of Mysteries, just so that anyone can't just walk in like last time. Security might be even tighter than before." Vector said.

"I'd hate to involve Potter and Weasley on this. I know those two well enough to know that they'll try to come along, with or _without_ our permission." McGonagall said with her lips thinned in disapproval.

"Knowing Potter, probably 'without'." Sinistra said with a snort.

"Well, you can't exactly blame them, now can you? She's their friend, after all." Hooch said.

"Still, they are students, which makes their safety _our_ responsibility. I'll not have those two risking arrest— _again_. Goodness knows they get into enough trouble as it is!" McGonagall said rather testily.

"Right. No Potter and Weasley, then." Hooch said hastily.

"And Firenze, I don't suppose you can look into the stars for this?" McGonagall asked. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have even considered using divinations— even centaur ones —as a valid method of research. But she was desperate. At this point, Hermione could have landed anywhere between the 10th century and the 12th century. That's too huge a gap for them to simply make random guesses.

"The stars tell only the future, not the past. However, I can look and see if we can find some guidance." Firenze replied.

"Thank you, Firenze. I would appreciate that," McGonagall said. Then, she looked around the room and said, "If there's nothing else, shall we adjourn for now and meet again, same time tomorrow?"

Several heads nodded, followed by tired groans and the sound of chairs scraping against the stone floor as teachers got up from their seats (well, the human teachers, anyway, since Firenze didn't use chairs).

oOo

Hermione laid awake in her bed that night, thinking of what Godric said over and over again.

Marriage? To Godric?

Was she really ready for such a big step? Courting Godric was one thing, but... _marriage?!_

Supposed she said yes... would it affect the timeline in any way? What if Godric was meant to have descendants with someone else?

A pang of jealousy rose in her heart. As indecisive as she was, she still didn't want to see Godric with another woman.

Hermione sighed. She couldn't keep stringing Godric along, could she? It would be fair to keep his hopes up. And yet... she wasn't ready to give him up. She wasn't sure if she'll _ever_ be ready to give him up.

A tiny, traitorous voice whispered in her heart. What if... what if she said yes?

oOo

"You have _got_ to be joking." Hooch muttered as the teachers stood in the middle of a circular room with more doors that she'd care to count.

"How are we supposed to find the correct room from here? There's so many doors. And oh, _look_, they're spinning. Now isn't that _nice?_" Vector said with sarcasm dripping from her voice as the walls began to spin so fast around them that the doors looked like blur.

Just then, the walls stopped spinning. But by that time, they were no longer sure which door they'd come out from, let alone which door they were going to.

"Well... at least they've stopped." Flitwick said.

Vector walked up to one of the doors, took out her wand, conjured a chalk, then marked one of the doors with an 'X'.

Not long after the X was marked, it faded away from the door.

"Great." Vector groaned. "Now what?"

"That's odd. I could have sworn Potter did the same thing a couple of years ago..." Hooch muttered.

"I'm willing to bet the Ministry probably changed things around this time, for security reasons." Flitwick said.

"So, what do we do now? Just pick a random door and go?" Hooch asked.

"No, wait." McGonagall drew her wand and conjured a trail of sparkling golden glitter that hovered in the air. Then, she sent the glitter to hover in front of one of the doors without touching the door itself.

The glitter stayed.

Hooch smiled in triumph.

"Well, that worked. Everyone pick a door. We need to do this quickly. Don't wander too far. We'll meet back here in ten minutes, at most." McGonagall ordered. Everyone did as they were told. Just like McGonagall did, they all conjured a trail of glitter that they left hovering in front of their chosen doors.

It took some trial and error, but eventually, the teachers found the right room. Now, they were standing in front of the veil.

"Well, Filius?" McGonagall looked at the tiny teacher expectantly.

Flitwick cleared his throat. "Right, now, before we begin, I need a precise date."

They all looked at each other, hoping that _someone_ would think of a date.

"Well, I didn't find any clues." Hooch shrugged.

"Neither did I. Although... I could pin-point the date Slytherin left... if that's any help at all." Vector said.

"Really? When was that?" Hooch asked.

"It was about a month after Godric Gryffindor died. Sometime in late September, I believe. It was shortly after the school-year began." Vector said.

"Do you really think that Slytherin leaving might have something to do with our Miss Granger?" Hooch asked.

"It's a possibility. She _is_ muggleborn, after all." Vector replied.

"Well... it's a shot, at least. Firenze, what do you think?" McGonagall turned towards the centaur, who had been silent this whole time.

"The stars seem to point to an earlier time than that." Firenze replied.

"How early?" Hooch asked.

"The beginning of August. Three weeks before the death of your Godric Gryffindor. Venus was leaving Leo around this time, and crossed Uranus sometime in the beginning of August." Firenze said, unaware that the entire astrology-talk was completely lost on his colleagues, who normally wouldn't care a whit about these things. They did, however, pick up the 'three weeks before Godric's death' part.

"Three weeks before? Is that where she ended up?" McGonagall asked.

"The stars did not say, only that a major event occurred on that day. Venus represents a woman, leaving Leo, your Gryffindor. The time in which Venus crosses Uranus would be the time a major event occurred which was tied to the woman." Firenze replied.

"And that means... what, exactly?" Hooch looked at Firenze in confusion.

Firenze looked at Hooch as if she was a woman with the IQ of a three year old. "It _means,_ Miranda Hooch, that something major occurred to Hermione Granger on that day."

Hooch glared at the centaur. "Right. Well, no need to get all 'huffy' about it."

Firenze opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off by McGonagall.

"Shall we vote? Late September— the date Slytherin left, or early August, as Firenze said?" McGonagall looked around the room.

"August." Vector said, then shrugged and explained, "Hey, it's better than wild guessing. We don't even know if Slytherin leaving had anything to do with Miss Granger."

Hooch opened her mouth to protest, then thought better of it. She sighed, slumped her shoulders, and said, "Fine. August."

McGonagall looked at Flitwick. "Filius?"

"I don't care either way." Flitwick shrugged. "But if I have to pick... September seemed more likely. At least we know that a major event _did_ happen on that day."

"And Firenze, I'm assuming you're still going by early August, correct?" McGonagall asked.

Firenze nodded.

"Well... it seems the majority voted August. So... shall we go with, say... what date was it exactly, Firenze?" McGonagall looked at the centaur.

"Third day of August, to be precise." Firenze replied.

"Very well, then. Filius?" McGonagall looked at Flitwick expectantly.

oOo

Morning.

Hermione stayed in bed for as long as she could. She barely slept a wink since last night. She couldn't stop thinking about Godric's almost-proposal.

She'd tossed and turned all night, wondering what she should do. She thought about her life in the future— assuming she would still _have_ that life _if_ she returned.

It would be a life full of friends, family, and unfortunately, enemies as well. A life of fighting and achievements.

But still, a life without Godric.

In the end, if she _had_ a choice... what would she choose?

She tried to imagine what it would be like, if she chose to go back to the future, knowing that she could have married Godric, but chose not to.

She would graduate Hogwarts, help Harry and hopefully take part in the final battle with You-know-who. And if, by some miracle, they survived, she would live on, watch all her friends get married and have children. She would have a career, perhaps a teacher, or a researcher, or even an auror. But she would be alone. She would forever pine for Godric.

Hermione's eyes widened. She got up so abruptly that her head began to spin. But it didn't matter. For the first time in days, Hermione smiled. Truly smiled.

She had her answer.

oOo

"Right. Everyone ready?" Flitwick glanced around the room. They all nodded. The teachers had stood in a half-circle in front of the veil.

"Now, remember, _focus_ on the date we've all agreed on, as well as on Miss Granger. Do not let your mind wander. This is _very_ important. And on the count of three, I want you all to point your wand towards the veil and chant _together_." Flitwick instructed. "Now, if we are all ready... one... two... three!"

The teachers point their wands towards the veil, or, in Firenze's case, his hand (since centaurs don't need wands). In a unified voice, they chanted the summoning spell, each focusing on the third of August. Golden light shot out of their wands and met in the middle of the veil. The tattered fabrics that covered the veil began to flutter wildly, as if some strong wind were blowing on it from behind the veil. They could hear voices calling out from the veil. It sounded like jumbled chatter that kept changing from moment to moment, just as one would hear if one were to pass by crowds of people very quickly.

Then, the golden light in the middle of the veil began to grow larger and larger until it formed a swirling vortex of light.

Anticipation grew within the hearts of the teachers. They kept their wands pointed at the veil, never wavering, never loosing their focus. And they waited... and waited...

oOo

Hermione hastily got ready. She showered, got dressed, dried her hair and brushed it. She looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"I look a mess." Hermione sighed in dismay. She conjured a ribbon and tied her hair back. She was about to grab her old school robes that she'd laid out on the bed, but she changed her mind. No, she didn't want to look like a student. Not this time.

Instead, she rummaged in the closet and found a nice, dark blue gown. Not too elegant, not too shabby, either. Just perfect for a casual day.

Or a casual date, Hermione thought with a blush.

She took one glance at the mirror. Satisfied that she now looked presentable, Hermione smiled. Then, she raced out the door.

Her heart was beating a mile a minute. She would find Godric and tell him her decision.

She was going to say yes!

_There!_ Hermione's heart leapt when she saw him walking in the direction of the Great Hall.

"Godric!" Hermione called out. She smiled. Broadly.

Godric turned towards her and looked at her with astonishment at the brilliant smile she sent him as she raced towards him.

"Hermione?" Godric frowned in confusion."What's the matter?"

Hermione ran until she nearly collided into Godric. Thankfully, Godric caught her just in time.

"I had to tell you. I've been thinking. All night." Hermione said between breaths.

"Slow down." Godric said. "Catch your breath first."

"Right. Sorry." Hermione laughed. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, despite the fact that her heart was beating furiously with anticipation. Once her breathing became regular again, Hermione took a deep breath then spoke.

"I've been thinking. About your proposal..." Hermione said.

Godric's heart stopped. He froze, and swallowed nervously.

"A-and...?" Godric looked at her anxiously.

"I've decided... that I would—" Hermione's voice was cut off when she felt something tugging within her belly. She frowned and looked down on her stomach.

"What is it?" Godric frowned. "Hermione?"

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. She looked at Godric and muttered, "I.. I don't know... i-it feels like a portkey..."

A golden light swirled around Hermione. She felt herself being pulled backwards into what felt like empty space. Dimly, she heard Godric calling her name over and over again until his voice faded in the darkness that swallowed her.

She kept falling... and falling.. and falling. Then, a burst of cold air whooshed around her as she flew backwards and hit hard ground.

The last thing she remembered was seeing faces looking down upon her.

And then she fainted.

oOo

"Oh, dear." Hooch muttered as she knelt down and scooped up Hermione's unconscious form in her arms.

"Is she... alive?" Vector peered at Hermione curiously.

Hooch touched her hands to the side of Hermione's upper-neck (just above her throat) to check her pulse. Sure enough, she felt a steady— if faint —beating of her pulse.

"She's alive." Hooch said.

"Firenze, would you mind carrying her?" McGonagall asked.

Firenze walked closer until he stood next to Hermione and Hooch.

"Lift her onto my back and tie a rope around her, in case I couldn't keep her steady," Firenze said.

Hooch did as Firenze said and levitated Hermione until she lay face down on Firenze's back. Then, she conjured ropes and tied Hermione to Firenze.

"Right, then. Hurry. Before the aurors come!" McGonagall whispered. The teachers hurried out of the room with Hermione's unconscious form lying on Firenze's back. As soon as they got to the atrium, they apparated away.

oOo

Harry and Ron sat glumly in the common room, playing chess. It was late. Most students were already in bed, but neither Harry nor Ron could seem to sleep that night. Perhaps it was the stifling night air, or perhaps it was the disappointment of not finding anything that could help them bring Hermione back— even after scouring the entire Grimmauld Place. Either way, the boys seemed even more depressed than ever.

Ron placed his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his hand. Then, he sighed. Almost half-heartedly, he ordered his chess-piece, "Knight to E4."

Harry watched as the knight piece moved to the said square. But for some reason, his mind wasn't on the game.

"I feel like I'm wasting my time here, do you?" Ron asked.

"Yeah." Harry's shoulders slumped.

"She could be out there somewhere. And we're here sitting here doing absolutely nothing!" Ron said in frustration.

Harry let out a long sigh. "I can't think of anything else to do. We could go out and look, but I've got no idea where to go."

"Me neither." Ron sighed as well.

"Bishop to B7." Harry said half-heartedly. Then, he looked at Ron and said, "Do you think she's... alright?"

"She _has_ to be, Harry." Ron insisted, though the slight frown and tightening of his lips suggested that he must've doubted his own words. He took one glance at the chess board, then said, "Pawn to F3."

The conversation stalled, only to be broken once in awhile by the sound of either Harry or Ron directing their chess pieces to this square and that.

Suddenly, the portrait doors swung open and a haggard-looking McGonagall stepped in.

"Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley. Both of you, come with me, please." McGonagall said.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other in confusion, then rose to follow their Headmistress. As soon as the portrait door closed behind them, Harry spoke up.

"Professor?" Harry raised his eyebrow in confusion at McGonagall. "What's going on?"

McGonagall opened her mouth to speak, then, glancing at the portraits that surrounded the hallway, she changed her mind and said instead, "Miss Granger is in the Hospital Wing."

Harry and Ron's eyes widened in surprise. They looked at each other. Then, as if they'd completely forgotten McGonagall, both boys started to run towards the Hospital Wing, leaving the tired-looking Headmistress behind them.

McGonagall had half a mind to stop them, but she was too tired to yell. Plus, she'd just got back from breaking into the Ministry. Besides, she knew how anxious the two were in finding their friend. For once, the stern Headmistress didn't call them back to admonish them. Instead, she let the two boys run ahead and silently followed them to the Hospital Wing, though at a much slower pace.

oOo

Godric stared at the room that Hermione had been staying in before she was taken away. True to her character, her room was neat. Every parchment had been rolled away and neatly piled on the desk in the corner. The books she was reading were stacked neatly on that same desk. There's not even a single wrinkle on her bed to suggest that it had been slept in.

But then, a black piece of clothing caught his eye. It was laid out on the bed, as if she'd been intending to wear it before she was abruptly taken away. Almost hesitantly, Godric approached the bed.

It was her future school robe, complete with the insignia of his house embroidered on the chest.

Godric's hand shook as he clutched the robe as if it was his lifeline. He held up the robe to his face. Her sweet scent still lingered on it, taunting him with images of a future he could no longer have.

"Godric." A voice called out from behind him.

Godric turned and saw Salazar step into the room. He knew that the other Founders had access to all the common rooms, so he wasn't surprised to see Salazar here.

"I thought I'd find you here." Salazar said.

Godric didn't answer. Instead, he looked away and continued to stare at Hermione's robes, which he was still clutching in his hands.

"I thought I had time.." Godric said as he absent-mindedly traced the Gryffindor badge on her robes with his thumb.

"You couldn't have known." Salazar said.

"I proposed to her. The day before she disappeared." Godric said.

Salazar raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Did you, really?"

"Yes... well I did, in a way. I said to her, if I were to ask her to marry me, what would she say." Godric said as he recalled the conversation he had with Hermione that day.

"And...?" Salazar looked at him curiously.

"She said she needed time," Godric said.

Salazar was silent.

"So I gave her time." Godric said, his jaws tense as he spoke. Then, he sighed bitterly and said, "But it didn't matter in the end."

Godric let her robes fall from his hand and onto the bed.

oOo

"Is she... alive?" Ron gulped as he slowly approached the hospital bed Hermione was lying on. Harry stepped up to the bed and touched Hermione's hand. It was cold.

Harry drew his hand back. He was about to turn to McGonagall to ask, but then he caught the steady rise and fall of Hermione's chest as she breathed.

"Yes." McGonagall said.

"She's just asleep, that's all. Whatever brought her back must've been very taxing for her," Madam Pomfrey said while staring at McGonagall curiously.

"What happened to her?" Harry asked.

"That, is what we'd all like to know as well, Mr. Potter. However, I must ask you _not_ to press her for answers if she is not ready to give it. I do not know how stressful the experience was for her, but she _has_ been gone for quite some time." McGonagall said, though her gaze was directed mostly at Harry, as if she knew how stubborn Harry could be whenever he needed answers.

"How did she get back?" Ron asked.

McGonagall gave a secretive smile and said, "Magic."

Before Harry and Ron could ask what _that's_ supposed to mean, McGonagall had cut them off, bid them good-night and left, leaving the two boys wondering exactly what their Headmistress was hiding.

oOo

Not long after McGonagall left, Harry and Ron stood by the bed that Hermione occupied in the Hospital Wing and stared at their sleeping friend. The only light in the room came from the moonlight that streamed through the window, giving Hermione's face a cold, bluish hue. Her face was pale and her hands were cold to the touch. They couldn't help but wonder exactly what Hermione had to go through in order to get back.

"Hermione..." Harry called out softly as he gently touched her arm.

But Hermione did not wake.

"Where do you think she's been, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Harry shook his head. He ran his hand along her arms until they rested on her hand. As soon as their hands touched, Harry frowned, withdrew his hand and said, "She's so cold."

Feeling curious, Ron reached out to touch her hand as well. As soon as he touched her hand, he frowned. Unlike Harry, however, he kept his hand on hers, as if he was reluctant to let go.

Suddenly, Hermione stirred.

"Harry!" Ron's eyes lit up as soon as he saw Hermione's eyelids flutter. Harry rushed back to the bed.

"Hermione?" Harry called out hopefully.

Hermione squinted her eyes, as if the dim moonlight was too bright for her. Slowly, her eyes opened. She looked around, but it was clear from her confused frown that she still had no idea where she is.

"Hermione!" Ron shook her arm eagerly.

Hermione's eyes snapped towards Ron. She blinked and frowned in confusion. Then, gradually, her eyes widened in recognition and surprise.

"R..Ron..?" Her voice cracked, as if she hadn't spoken in a long time.

"I thought we'd lost you." Ron's shoulders sagged in relief.

"W-wha—" Hermione's gaze slowly swept across the room until her eyes caught Harry's. Hermione's eyes widened. "Harry..."

Her eyes flickered between her two friends before they widened as something finally dawned upon her.

"I'm back..." She whispered weakly.

Perhaps it was their imagination, but Hermione didn't seem to sound as enthusiastic about being back as Harry and Ron thought she should.

"H-how..." Hermione tried to speak in normal volume, but her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and said, "W-water..."

It took the boys a few seconds to realize what she meant. As soon as they did so, Harry immediately took out his wand, conjured a glass of water, and held it to Hermione's lips so she could drink.

Hermione drank a few sips, then laid back down on the bed.

"Where've you been, Hermione?" Ron asked.

Hermione's face fell. She wrenched her hand away from Ron's grasp and looked away. Pain was etched in her eyes.

"Hermione?" Harry frowned.

"I... I'm sorry, Ron. I... I don't want to talk about it. Not yet." Hermione swallowed. It hurt too much to think about what— or rather _whom _—she'd just lost.

"Why?" Ron looked in disbelief.

"Ron-" Harry nudged Ron in warning.

Ron gulped and back down.

"Please. I... I need some time. Could you at least give me that?" Hermione looked at her two friends.

Harry and Ron looked sullen, but nodded anyway.

"I'm sorry." Hermione said after awhile.

Harry patted Hermione's arm and said, "We shouldn't have pressed you, Hermione."

"Yeah..." Ron said guiltily.

Hermione sighed and gave them a bitter smile.

"At least you're back." Ron said with a wry smile.

"Yeah." Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione didn't answer. Instead, she looked away towards the window.

The boys looked at each other and frowned. One thought seemed to echo in their minds: What was wrong with Hermione?

oOo

McGonagall came to see her first thing in the morning. The Headmistress had the curtains drawn close and cast a silencing charm around them for to prevent stray students from overhearing their conversation.

"How are you feeling, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked.

"Physically? I felt like I've been run over by a herd of hippogriffs." Hermione groaned as she propped herself up on the bed.

McGonagall gave her a thin-lipped smile.

"How did I get back, Professor?" Hermione asked with a tinge of sadness in her voice.

"You don't remember?" McGonagall frowned.

"I remember falling and emerging somewhere... but that's about it." Hermione frowned as she tried to remember the details, but failed. All she could remember was falling in darkness and the sudden rush of cold air towards the end.

"We summoned you— from the Veil in the Ministry of Magic. You fainted... and we brought you here." McGonagall said. She went to the chair next to Hermione's bed and sat down. Then, facing Hermione, McGonagall said, "No one but the staff knows of your time travel."

Hermione stared at McGonagall. "You knew I travelled through time?"

"We couldn't have summoned you back without first knowing _where_ you went, Miss Granger." McGonagall answered.

"Then... you know I went to..." Hermione bit her lips and trailed off.

"The time of the Founders?" McGonagall raised an eyebrow.

Hermione nodded. She swallowed nervously, then said, "Professor... what... what happened to... Godric Gryffindor?"

McGonagall looked at her curiously, then said in a quieter voice, "We summoned you... from three weeks before his death."

Hermione froze.

"T-three weeks...? He..." Hermione placed a hand on her mouth. "But he was fine when I left! He couldn't have... he..." Hermione swallowed, then looked at McGonagall and asked, "How... how did he die?"

McGonagall frowned, then shook her head. "We do not know, Miss Granger. That, unfortunately, is a tale that has been lost in time."

Hermione clenched the bedsheets with her hands and stared in horror.

"Did you know him personally?" McGonagall asked.

Hermione swallowed, then nodded.

"I... we... we were... close." Hermione bit her lips and looked away.

McGonagall raised her eyebrow at this, but decided not to comment. Instead, she patted Hermione's arm comfortingly.

"Professor?" Hermione finally looked at the Headmistress.

"Yes?" McGonagall said.

"D-do you know where..." Hermione took a deep breath, and continued, "Where his... grave is?"

McGonagall frowned thoughtfully. "Legend has it that it was in Godric's Hollow. But no one's been there in centuries and the specific location has been lost to history. I suspect it's been made unplottable since muggles began settling in that area as well."

"Godric's Hollow..." Hermione muttered absent-mindedly as she thought about how she could find his grave.

"Miss Granger..." McGonagall opened her mouth to speak. But then, she closed her mouth and shook her head, as if she suddenly changed her mind. Instead, she smiled sadly, patted Hermione's hand and said, "Get some rest. I daresay that the rest of the school will want to know where you've been."

Hermione's eyes widened in horror. She looked at McGonagall as if she was pleading for help.

"But I don't want to tell them anything!" Hermione cried. She clenched her jaws, looked down on her lap and said, "I'm... not ready. I've just lost someone I... someone close to me. I need time to grieve. I don't want to go out there and face all the questions, the gossips, and worse yet, the teasing from the Slytherins."

"Even if you could, I wouldn't have advised you to tell them about the time-travel, either," McGonagall said.

"You wouldn't?" Hermione looked at McGonagall in surprise.

McGonagall sighed, then said, "I will tell you this in the _strictest_ confidence, Miss Granger: unauthorized time-travel, especially when the potential for changing history is great such as in your case, is something that the Ministry couldn't just ignore."

"But it was an accident!" Hermione argued.

"Yes... but you know how the Ministry is." McGonagall said sadly.

"Yeah." Hermione sighed and nodded.

"Miss Granger, our position is very delicate right now, especially in light of the war. You-know-who's supporters are already infiltrating the Ministry. I would advise you to keep a low profile, if possible." McGonagall said. Then, she added, "The details of your potions accident have been kept confidential. Only the staff knows of the full effect of the accident, and thus, only _we_ are aware of your time-travel. The staff have all agreed to keep this information a secret. With any luck, none of this will reach the ears of the Ministry."

"I understand." Hermione nodded. Then, she looked up and asked, "What will I tell everyone?"

"Tell them... that the potion brought you _forward_ in time. More specifically, the potion brought you to the potions classroom last night, in the exact spot where you originally disappeared from." McGonagall said.

"So, in essence, I never really went anywhere? The potion only caused me to skip forward a few months?" Hermione asked.

"Exactly." McGonagall nodded. "And it would keep you from being incriminated for meddling with history."

"Thank you, Professor," Hermione said.

McGonagall patted her shoulders gently and said, "I hope you don't think that we're being harsh. We're only trying to protect you."

"I know." Hermione smiled faintly.

McGonagall left soon after that, leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts as she lied on the bed to recuperate. As she did so, she couldn't help but wonder:

How did Godric die?

**To be continued...**

A/N: _Ack! Don't kill me! Yes, Godric's dead. But I had to do it! Really! (Ducks from flying tomatoes)._

_And please excuse my shabby attempt at astrology. The whole Venus and Leo mumbo-jumbo that Firenze spouted in this chapter was exactly that: mumbo-jumbo. In other words, I made it all up!_

_For those of you who believe Firenze couldn't have gone up the stairs to the staff meeting room (wherever that may be), I suggest you go to YouTube and look up: "Liz Daffner Monte horse tricks" (and no, that's not me. lol! I'm not that skilled!) It's a short video clip of a horse going up the stairs. Yeah, I didn't think it possible for a horse to climb stairs before… but apparently, I was wrong._


End file.
